I'm a fairly sentimental person, I suppose. I like looking through old journals and reading entries from the same day a couple of years ago. I frequently wonder what I was doing four years ago at this time, and I'll go digging through old journals or blog entries until I find the answer. I don't have to wonder what I was doing a year ago at this time. I know exactly where I was. I was in a labor and delivery room at Eliza Coffee Memorial Hospital, thinking that the contractions really weren't all that bad.
My story soon changed, and I sprang for the epidural late in the afternoon. Micah arrived about five hours later, at 8:17 p.m. She weighed 7 pounds, 9 ounces, and she was a tiny 19 1/4 inches long. She was a sweet baby, even then, and I'll never forget the wonder of holding her in my arms for the first time.

Today she celebrates her first birthday, and she has no idea why I keep singing to her, but she likes to dance along. She sparkles with life and energy, offering slobbery, open-mouthed kisses to me when I ask and patting me on the back when I put her on my shoulder. Watching her teeter and totter around the house as she's become a more confident walker has been fun, and it's equally as fun to see how delighted she is with herself. She loves to clap and will sometimes wave "hey" and "bye-bye," but she's a strong-willed child who does practically nothing on demand. When I go into her room to get her in the mornings or after a nap, she plays peek-a-boo with me through the rails of the crib, and her giggle is contagious.

She is truly a sweet little girl, and I'm blessed to be her mommy. Last week, she started cutting three more teeth, so now she has four on top and two on the bottom. Even though she's still tiny, she's grown a lot in the past few months. When I weighed her Monday, she came in at 18 pounds, 3.5 ounces, which is nearly three pounds more than she weighed when they discharged her from the hospital a month ago. She loves to talk, although few of her words are recognizable, and when we sit down to read a book, she scrambles to turn the pages. She is precious.

This morning when I prayed for her, I prayed that God would guard her and protect her throughout her life - that he would call her by name and whisper stories of his love in her ears - that she would grow into a strong young woman whose heart is stayed on him - that her heart would be big enough to love both the loved and the unloved - that she would be gracious, kind and merciful, showing the world what her God is like. I pray that as the Lord shapes and molds her into a beautiful young lady that he will shape and mold me into the kind of mother who honors and glorifies him - one who is patient, kind and gracious with her children. I know that we cannot do this without him, so I pray that God would enable us to nurture and protect this tiny little girl that he saw fit to bless us with.

She is a precious little girl, and I love her more than I ever imagined.